Hope
by Riley4
Summary: Set three years before Thatcher moves to Chicago


Hope  
By Riley  
Pairings: MT/Male  
Rating: PG-15.  
Type: Deathfic (not a major character). Romance.   
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters and I'm not making any money from this story.  
Note: This is set just under three years before Thatcher came to Chicago. She is currently in Toronto.  
  
Meg Thatcher woke to the sound of the alarm clock. Pulling a face, she cuddled more into the arms of the man beside her. She felt him move slightly to turn the alarm clock off and then he kissed her head. Meg looked up at him. "How come you're so cheerful in the morning?" she asked.  
  
He smiled at her, his dark blue eyes glowing. "Because, my love, I wake up to you."  
  
Pleased with his answer, Meg smiled back at him and said, "Smooth talker!" Moving her head from its resting-place in the crook of his shoulder, she kissed him on the lips.  
  
Meg found herself being lifted out of bed by his strong pair of arms, and carried towards the shower, "Come on, mother to be, let's get you in the shower then neither of us will be late for work!"  
  
Meg groaned. "I hate being on a desk job, while you're running around doing the interesting stuff."  
  
"Yes, but it's better for you and the baby. We wouldn't want anything to happen to either of you! I couldn't bare that."  
  
"I know Ryan. I'm just in a beached whale feeling sorry for myself kind of mood." She pouted, causing him to laugh.  
  
That was the last time she ever heard him laugh. At 2:30 in the afternoon Meg was informed that Ryan Hunter, her fiancé, had been shot while in the line of duty, and had been taken to ER.   
  
When Meg got there, he was in the operating theatre. After what seemed like an eternity a doctor approached her and their boss, Superintendent Rowan. "How is he?" Meg quickly blurted out.  
  
"He's out of the operating theatre, and we've managed to remove the bullet." Meg let out a huge sigh of relief. Then she noticed the look on the doctor's face. He was holding back. There was something he wasn't telling her.  
  
"What? What is it? What's wrong? Can I see him?"  
  
"I'm afraid he's in a coma."  
  
"Oh my God!" Meg started to go catatonic. Superintendent Rowan gently took hold of her and steered her to a chair. The doctor followed. Meg felt their baby kick and she snapped out of the state. "Will he be okay?" She placed a hand over her stomach.  
  
"If he gets through the next few hours, then yes, there's every chance he'll make a complete recovery."  
  
"What are you saying? Are you telling me that he might not make it? That he might not live?"  
  
"That's a possibility. One you should be aware of."  
  
"Can I see him now? I want to see him."  
  
The doctor nodded in the affirmative. "Yes, of course. I'll take you to him."  
  
"Would you like me to come with you Meg?" The Superintendent asked.  
  
She nodded. "Yes, please."  
  
When she entered his room she nearly cried. Tears welled up at the sight of him lying there so helpless, attached to all of the machines. He was generally such a healthy man; it was hard to see him like this. And all because some scumbag had shot him, when Ryan was only trying to do his duty in protecting Toronto's citizens. It should be the criminal lying here in this bed, and not him! It wasn't right Ryan being here, it wasn't just!  
  
Slowly Meg approached the bed. "Hi honey! It's me Meg. I'm here now. It's going to be all right. I'm not going to leave your side," Meg said as she took hold of one of his hands. With her other hand she tenderly stroked his black hair off his forehead. She bent down and lightly kissed his head.   
  
His eyes fluttered open. "Ryan?" Meg's spirits lifted, and she let the tears slowly flow down her face. "Get the doctor!" She shouted. Superintendent Rowan was already on it, and the doctor and some nurses came sprinting into the room. They checked him over, and to Meg's relief, seemed most happy.   
  
Ryan seemed to want to talk, and so the doctor took the breathing apparatus out of his mouth. Ryan looked at Meg; his voice was hoarse when he spoke, "I love you Meg."  
  
"I love you too." She leaned forward and kissed his lips tenderly.  
  
He placed his hand on her belly, and said, "We're going to have a daughter."  
  
"We are? How do you know?"  
  
"Tell Hope I love her." His hand fell from Meg's stomach and his eyes shut. The machines started to go haywire.  
  
"W-what's…what's going on? What's happening?" Meg was almost shouting. She felt Superintendent Rowan gently pull her away from the bed so that the medical staff could work on Ryan.  
  
They stopped.  
  
The doctor turned to Meg. "I'm very sorry, but he's gone."  
  
"No! What do you mean 'he's gone?' He can't be? He was just talking to me. He was fine!" She shook her head repeatedly.  
  
"I'm sorry." Was all the doctor said. Meg flooded into uncontrollable tears. Rowan put his arms around her comfortingly and let her cry on his shoulder.  
  
One-week later Ryan's funeral was held, with honours. Meg was barely functioning. She had gone into robot mode to do the day to day things. Rowan was being a tower of strength, a father figure and friend, and making sure she ate.   
  
One month after Ryan's funeral, Meg went into labour. Just like Ryan had predicted, she had a little girl. Remembering the name Ryan had used, Meg called her "Hope." 


End file.
